


As Our Hearts Beat as One

by OakwoodOuroboros



Category: In a Heartbeat (Short Film)
Genre: M/M, plot reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 10:05:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13233450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OakwoodOuroboros/pseuds/OakwoodOuroboros
Summary: Jonathan, the most popular boy at school, develops a crush on local nobody student Sherwin. What could possibly go wrong from keeping all these feelings bottled up?





	As Our Hearts Beat as One

**Author's Note:**

> I told Brocsox that I'd write this thing down, and I did. I took way longer than expected, but I did it. Enjoy!

Honestly, the very first time Jonathan set his eyes on Sherwin, he wondered whether he was dreaming. It was his first day back at Newgate Academy, and he was walking the halls with his friends, laughing at Thomas' joke. A second later though, an angel appeared before him, and as rare an occasion as it was, Jonathan's façade crumbled. He stumbled, surprising Sunny, but in that instant he was deaf to his friend's squeak of indignation. His whole world was focussed on this redhead, this perfect person, with a constellation of freckles stretching across his face, a whole universe mapped out on his skin, hazelnut eyes a little wide as he looked around the hall nervously.

He had a paper clutched in his right hand, the other gripped tightly around the strap of his bookbag. One detail that Jonathan remembered above all, however, was the way that the light struck his hair, the loose copper strays escaping from the tightly-wound curls reflecting the sunrays, igniting a fiery aura around his head. When he moved, eyes roving and locking on his, Jonathan's heart stuttered, before starting up again, slamming so hard against the inside of his ribs that he thought that his chest might simply rip open right there and then.

And then, Thomas had to ruin the moment by bumping into the boy as he walked past, snickering when he nearly fell from the slight jostle. In that instant, Jonathan felt angry, very angry towards his supposed friend, especially when he started to poke fun at him.

"Why aren't you talking? You mute, newbie?"

The way he looked down at his shoes, how he avoided eye contact and shrunk away at those harsh words was too much for Jonathan to bear. But he had sense in him. He could not start a fight right here. So, with eyes icy and grip stern, he took a hold of the blond boy's upper arm and pulled him away from the scene, dragging him through double doors, the rest of the gang following. Once they were outside, Jonathan let him go, shoving the blond away from him with a growl of disgust. Thomas simply looked at him reproachfully, patting down part of his sleeve where he had been grabbed as if it had been tainted by dirt.

"You're too righteous, Jon. Can't even let your friends have a little fun from time to time, will you?"

Jonathan didn't answer, just stared coolly. Sunny and Criss soon joined Thomas' side, and with a last glance back they walked off, leaving Jonathan trembling, with his fists clenched and wondering how he was going to possibly deal with these feelings that were making his guts swirl and his eyes prick with tears.

* * *

 He had done his research, and all in all it didn't look particularly positive. As far as he could tell, feeling attracted to a boy was by no means _normal_ : it was barely touched on in the Bible, which he usually turned to when he was looking for guidance in life, and all the other sources he had unearthed… Well, on the bright side of things, he was not alone. There were other people like him out there, who had given their heart in offering to a person of the same gender as them. On the other… They weren't necessarily accepted.

Still, Jonathan was rational, and cynical in regards to certain things: the claims that he would go to Hell for his actions sounded like the cries of a person indoctrinated, something he himself refused to ever believe. A word of man which causes this much hateful passion could not, in his opinion, be followed without some serious questioning, and was against how he interpreted his faith. Besides, a good part of him knew that this was not something that he could change about himself. His heart had chosen someone, and he was inclined to follow it. However…

Jonathan swallowed, bringing his duvet up to his chest as he pushed down a sob. The chances of this boy liking him back were inexistant. He would never be able to gather enough courage to confess to him, and even if he did, he'd probably destroy his whole life doing so. He had a position now, and if he did this, he would be sacrificing it in the vague hope that his love be returned.

Yet again, he felt, deep down, that it was worth it. With renewed courage, he straightened up and wiped the tears from his eyes, determination coursing through him like a new blood. Tomorrow, he would confess. He would offer his heart to the red-headed angel, and hope with all the hope that it contained that it would not be shattered.

Yes, he would do that.

* * *

 He didn't do that.

The day after, he didn't either. Nor the day after that. Nor the day _after_ that. Every time he approached him, the angel-boy would have that gut-churning, cheek-heating effect on him that would force him to hide behind a tree, or cut himself from his line of sight some other way. He soon understood that he would be incapable of fulfilling the goal he had set himself.

One day, the boy whose name he had learned was Sherwin had walked past him, and all the while trying to contain the frantic beating of his heart, Jonathan managed to catch the small wave and squiggle of a smile that he sent his way, and in that instant, everything froze. The world was caught in what could have been seen as a photography, but taking in all the dimensions at once, managing to capture the spark in Sherwin's eyes, the gloss of his hair, the slightest of freckles on his hands and face. Jonathan was incapable of any reaction other than panicking slightly, a panic which, more by habit than by will, he erected a stone-cold mask to protect from the other's view. He could then only watch as the smaller boy's expression fell, to him his friendliness being rejected and thrown back in has face like a dirty dish rag.

That one incident had haunted Jonathan for a few days, and he could not help but feel incredibly guilty at his stupid lack of action. He could have taken this as a chance to get closer to the angel fallen from above, but because of his stupid instincts, he had missed it. After that, he had taken on a habit, one which was not the most healthy, he had to say, but he couldn't help it: everyday, he would find a hiding place in the school gardens, and spy on the redhead who would eventually appear some way down the path of crunchy light gravel. He'd always walk alone and would take his time. It was the most beautiful thing to watch, seeing Sherwin's face relax from his usually nervous expression into one of comfortable happiness, as he looked around in wonder at the beauty of the gardens around him. At first, Jonathan had not understood, but then, slowly, as day after day, he shared this moment with an unknowing Sherwin, he started to see the beauty in the heart-shaped leaves of the trees, the well-groomed lawns, the architecture of the school… Things that he had never seen before, blinded by his years of frequenting the same building, now became apparent to him. Without knowing it, the red-haired angel had opened up his eyes, and every day, Jonathan fell more and more in love with the person who, in the sanctity of his mind, he called the light of his life.

Sunny, Criss and Thomas, surprisingly enough, didn't seem to have caught onto any of this. It was true that he had never interacted with Sherwin directly, and there had been few other occasions where he could have revealed himself: it was indecent to stare, and he limited himself to a glance once in a while, reasoning that his morning spying was already enough of a trespassing on the boy's privacy.

Jonathan also made it a job of his to steer Thomas away from Sherwin's usual haunts. The blond had taken up the habit of bullying those he thought would be the most vulnerable to his sneer and perfect demeanour, and unfortunately, the very person who made his skin tingle by his very presence was the perfect target for his bellicose acquaintance. To him, he was an angel, but he was well aware that his short stature and shyness was seen as a weakness by some. At the end of the day, he did what he could to protect him from the sharp edges and hidden corners of the school, using his popularity to shield the worst of the pain that could befall the redhead boy. There were times when he couldn't intervene though, and on those days, when he caught sight of the slight downward tilt to Sherwin's head or the badly-disguised bruise hidden by the sleeve of his uniform sweater, he wanted to scream and tear apart anyone who could be taken responsible for the other boy's hurt, be they innocent at the end of the day or not.

All in all though, Sherwin's scholarship went on well in Newgate High. He made himself some friends, Jonathan was happy to discover, even though he always felt a twinge of jealousy whenever he saw one of those other people interact so freely with the person he held so dear. Months went by, winter came and went, spring arrived along with the melting of the snow and the newly-awakened bird calls in the morning. Jonathan continued to observe Sherwin in the mornings, having found a good spot in one of the bushes. Everyday, he would watch him, and every day Sherwin would not disappoint, staring with wide-eyed awe at everything that the well-maintained school had to offer, every single budding leaf and buzzing insect a source of wonder for him. Every day, Jonathan would feel a little more guilty to continue on in this practice, but at the same time, he felt pretty unapologetic about it: it didn't hurt anyone, really (or he hoped, nevertheless), and every day he fell more and more in love with the boy. This would have probably continued in an endless, cycle, were it not for the events of that one fateful, fateful day.

* * *

 It must have been in April, and for the first time since the beginning on the school year, Jonathan was late. The day was truly gorgeous, and usually he relied solely on his own internal clock and the tickle of the sun on his face to wake him on such mornings, but for some reason, it did not work this time around. He had slept in, and it was only when he heard his Mom move around in the house, getting ready for work, that he jolted up and out of his bed, rushed to get dressed, sped down the stairs to the kitchen, snatched an apple from the bowl of fruit sitting on the dinning table, and in a flash was gone, out of the door and jogging down the streets to the high school.

He arrived just in time. Sherwin had appeared at the entrance to the school grounds, and would have probably seen Jonathan, had he not jumped into the nearest bush on the way in. Fortunately enough, the boy seemed to be too absorbed in the contemplation of the school entrance's stonework probably spotting a lizard or a bug there, something that Jonathan was grateful for. His heart was pounding against his chest as if it were trying to escape, the close encounter a little too much. Sherwin rapidly moved on down the path, however, and Jonathan followed as fast as his scrabbling would allow him to. He quickly regained his usual position in one of the bushes lining the way to the school's main entrance, the little nest he had formed there the perfect place to see without being seen.

As he watched Sherwin take his careful steps up the gravel path, Jonathan smiled, a lovestruck smile that translated the fuzziness in his brain, the warm batter of the butterflies in his stomach. The hidden boy brought out his apple, a shiny red fruit that he had not taken care of checking for bruises before he left; still, it didn't really matter, not in the moment anyway. He nibbled a little at it as he watched Sherwin, his brain not even registering the taste of the fruit, he was so absorbed in watching the other boy. Suddenly, without so much more than a warning, something unexpected happened: one of the butterflies that was fluttering around in Spring's warming rays, vivid yellow in colour, decided to alight on Sherwin's nose. He went slightly cross-eyed for a second, and Jonathan held his breath, waiting for his reaction.

Then, for the first time ever, he watched as the boy burst out laughing, the loudest sound he had ever heard Sherwin emit, and the most beautifully pure one to have ever struck Jonathan's ears. He was taken completely by surprise, and of course, in that second, he tried to take a new breath, not taking in account the fact that his mouth was still half-full of munched apple.

The cough was loud, and it cut straight through Sherwin's laugh like scissors through paper. Immediately, the boy stopped, eyes snapping in the direction of Jonathan's hiding place. He took a step forward, and Jonathan, not knowing what to do, hid himself as best as he could against the trunk of the nearest tree. His heart was pounding harder than it had ever before, the questions that were to come, having to explain his presence here, all would be too complicated. Let alone that, he could not possibly speak to this boy without spluttering, without revealing his attraction to him somehow… All he could do now was pray, pray that he would not find him, that he would ignore the sound and continue on his path to the school.

His heart felt like it was going explode out any second now, and Jonathan was starting to get concerned, laying his folded hands over his chest in order to calm the organ's frenesy, without much success.

_Ba-bump._

_Ba-bump._

_BA-BUMP!_

And there it was. The second he let go of it, the small heart flew out of Jonathan's grasp. The only reaction he had in the second was the small mouthed "What?" which escaped his lips, but he had no time to react in any other way, because the next thing he knew, the small incarnation of his feelings was flying straight towards Sherwin. Desperately, he swatted at it, trying to catch it before it got too close to the boy, but in vain. It flew to his face, startling the redhead enough to make him stumble, and of course, fall. Jonathan lunged at him, and caught him just before he hit the unforgiving ground.

He didn't, however, plan on catching him so that he ended up holding the other boy bridal style. Jonathan blushed several shades darker, his heart pushing at the back of his head with immense force, trying to get his face as close to Sherwin's as possible…

 _It wants me to kiss him_.

Truly, the temptation was there; it was the perfect romantic setting, Sherwin looked confused, but overall not too alarmed at the situation, hazelnut eyes boring into his and making Jonathan drown in their chocolatey warmth, but he couldn't. Perspiration was building on his hands, he was trembling from head to foot, and of course it would be immensely disrespectful to do so without Sherwin's consent. The moment was magic to Jonathan though, lost in time, a few seconds that he relished in before he was brought back to his senses by the crunching of the pair of feet on the gravel path behind him. Quickly, he straightened up, caught his heart and held it tightly in a knuckle-whitening grip, bringing Sherwin back to his feet, and immediately placing himself between him and the approaching blond on the path. He waved at Thomas when he passed him by, hoping beyond all hope that he had not seem them in their compromising position, but he didn't even bother responding to his greeting, too immersed in his own thoughts, he presumed.

Jonathan let out a sigh of relief, then turned back to Sherwin, offering him a small, cramped smile. To his heart's absolute delight ( _hush, stop squealing!_ ), the redhead returned his own stiff smile, the wavy awkwardness enough to make Jonathan want to melt in a puddle on the floor right there and then. Obviously nervous now, Sherwin scuttled off, head lowered and moving quickly towards the school rather than standing tall and using broad steps as he had previously. Jonathan was a little saddened by this, but he didn't really have time to reflect it.

As if buttered, his heart managed to escape his hold, the little scamp taking hold of his finger and pulling him along with a strength that its small stature left unsuspected. Jonathan held on as fast as he could, trying to dig his heels into the ground, but this only slowed their progression down very marginally. Soon, they were moving at the same speed as a car, and Jonathan had to swerve with all his weight in order to avoid colliding with the innocent redhead angel, who remained as oblivious as can be of the situation. The heart managed to bring them back on route again, and Jonathan closed his eyes tight, now prepared for the inevitable…

Well, in the end it did turn out to be evitable, but only at the cost of a now dirtied uniform, a couple of bruises, and a now absent heart. Jonathan panicked, looking around only to catch a glimpse of the small organ rounding the bend to the door, a second before it closed. He jumped to his feet, rushing to catch it, but in vain: when he burst through the double doors, he saw, to his horror, that the small heart was cuddling up to Sherwin, who looked immensely confused in the small pool of light that streamed in from the window above.

Jonathan took a step forward, another, snatching at the heart at the last minute, but it held on tight, catching onto one of Sherwin's fingers even as as he tried to pull it away from him. The brunet tugged harder, but there was nothing to it: it didn't want to let go. Sherwin looked to him in confusion, free arm close to his body and terrified, it seemed.

In the corner of the room someone snorted, causing both Sherwin and Jonathan to look up. It was Thomas, Criss and Sunny by his side, looking deeply unimpressed.

"I always knew there was something wrong with you," he said with a snarl, his gaze turning from one that he would cast on a person to one that he would consider an object with, looking him up and down with nothing more than pure distate. Jonathan swallowed heavily, his long-time… well, _acquaintance_ now gone forever, it seemed. Quickly, he snapped his eyes back to Sherwin, just in time to see realisation dawn on his face, accompanied by a wave of now informed unease.

He couldn't do this any longer. He had to get himself and his treacherous heart away from this person he loved so, before he hurt him more than he had already. With a final tug, he pulled at the small arm of his incarnate feelings, and with that, he found himself holding only half of it and with tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

The rest was a blur. He remembered slamming bodily through the doors, then sprinting to his one safe space on the school grounds, the place that held so many memories that he kept so, so close, but that he was now going to have to abandon once and for all.

There, he curled up, staring down at his broken heart, holding the half of organ in hands that had been numbed, unfeeling. He felt detached from himself for a few seconds, that is, until he felt the hot tears track down his cheeks, and he was awoken to the reality of the situation.

He couldn't care less about Thomas. He didn't even care if Criss and Sunny left him, if the whole school decided to shun him, as will surely be the case now. No, the only thing that counted was the fact that Sherwin… well, he had hurt Sherwin. He surely will never interact with him any more, he deserved not to lay eyes upon the boy, even. What Jonathan had done to him, had embarrassed him beyond what anyone else could ever…

The rest of his reflection was interrupted by a sob, his own. It was filled to the brim with all the suffering, all the guilt he felt. It was a single, heartbroken sound which echoed in the closed area formed by the trees and the school's façade. After that, only silent tears fell, dampening the small pink half of heart that he held, the numbness returning as quickly as it had left.

Jonathan didn't look up when the gravel of the path crunched, nor did he do so when a nervous redhead peeked over the top of the bush he was hiding behind. It was only when he finally entered his line of sight that the boy looked up, then quickly tried to dry his tears, getting up from his sitting position as he did. He knew very well that he could fool nobody with his reddened eyes and dishevelled self, but he could still try to put up a front, at least something to seem respectful to the person he still felt too attracted to for his own good. He didn't look him in the eye though, there was no way he would be able to do that, but he still forced a smile as he looked at the other boy's shoes. They were perfectly polished, just like the rest of his appearance. It was comforting, the fact that from what he could see, he had not changed, had not been pushed around for what had just happened. Well. Maybe.

A hand crossed his line of sight, one which advanced hesitantly, holding what Jonathan recognised to be the second part of his halved heart. Another set of fingers quickly joined the first, reaching hesitantly for what he now realised were his whitened knuckles that were sheltering the part of the heart that he still held tight. Instinctively, he flinched away, but quickly relented and corrected his mistake. There was no reason for him to deny anything to the boy he had wronged so, and he would, without any hesitation, give him the second part of his heart to do with what he pleased. To his surprise, he took it gently, handling it like it was some delicate bird, hands shaking a little, visibly anxious. Carefully, he pressed the two pieces together, which melded like clay, leaving a slight seam. He then held out a hand again, Jonathan confused for a second on what he was wishing for this time. It was only as he reached forward and tenderly took a hold of his own sweating palms that he understood, and in the moment he didn't react, as he was too shaken up by it all. He was… holding his hand? It was large, warm, and slightly calloused, reminding him of freshly-baked bread, for some reason. It also happened to send a constant, tingling sensation coursing up his arm, making him feel light-headed and causing the butterflies to flutter softly in his stomach again.

Then, Sherwin placed the heart in his hand, the coolness of it, not unlike polished stone, contrasting dramatically with the warmth he had previously experienced. Another sob, this one he could not entirely comprehend and even less explain choking up his throat and releasing in a full-body shudder. Their hands were one on top of the other, intertwining, holding the heart in its very centre.

For a second, nothing happened. Then, as if revived by the combined heat from their two sets of digits, there was a movement, and with the same strength that it demonstrated having earlier on, the little organ wriggled out of its cage of intertwined fingers and flew around them, whizzing happily once or twice around their heads before settling next to Jonathan's, floating there and bobbing up and down excitedly.

They were still holding hands, Jonathan registered. Sherwin hadn't let go, despite the fact that his heart was now healed and whole. Hesitantly, for the first time since he had burst out of the hall, Jonathan looked up, catching sight of Sherwin's face, his eyes. There, he saw something that he wouldn't have thought he would ever see: not only was he forgiving and a little embarrassed, he was… happy. In fact, when their eyes locked, a squiggle of a smile drew itself upon his face, and he let a small, noiseless laugh escape, one which was beyond the realms of adorable and which made his heart feel like it had been resurrected once more.

After a while, Sherwin untangled his hands from Jonathan's, but didn't take a step back like he expected him to do. No, instead he moved forward, blush ever-spreading from cheeks to ears and neck and looped his hands behind Jonathan's back, hugging him close. Surprised, but following the movement, Jonathan imitated the movement, settling his arms around Sherwin's neck, holding him loosely, as if he was made of the finest of china. Up close, he was just as angelic as he had seemed to him before, as he had ever seemed to him, since that very first day. He stood a little taller, enough to be able to bump foreheads with Jonathan, bringing their faces close enough for the taller boy's line of sight to be taken up entirely by the beautiful rays of polished mahogany and honey streaks of the other boy's irises, and their chests close enough for him to feel the flutter of his heartbeat. It was quick, like a sparrow, and when it emerged to join Jonathan's it flew like such as well, whirling around and around their heads to finally meet the other. Jonathan didn't need to look up to know, he felt it as they synced, beating in unison.

Beating as one.


End file.
